


The Spaces

by velljob



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gen, Homophobic Slurs, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Light to Medium Angst, One of each, Other, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Racial slurs, Rated Teen for language as usual, Slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 16:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18968785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velljob/pseuds/velljob
Summary: Steve set the mugs down onto a table so that he could fold his arms. “Maybe you shoulda given me a clue that you wanted to know,” he said. They were doing the thing where they stared at each other and clearly had about fourteen conversations just with their eyes, conversations that Tony didn’t have a hope of hacking into. “Because I left you an opening, hell, I’ve left you a hundred openings over the years, and you’ve never taken any of them.”- Welcome To The Party by flawedamythyst--All the times Steve left an opening for Bucky to bare his soul.





	The Spaces

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Welcome To The Party](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990235) by [flawedamythyst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst). 



Steve is fifteen, and he's sitting in an abandoned lot that might have been intended as a park once, leaning against the stone wall that runs the perimeter. There's no grass left in the space; just dry, brown dirt that the local kids end up covered in after school and on weekends when they congregate there to smoke cigarettes and search for ways to propel themselves up the social pecking order. When someone can get their hands on a baseball they play for as long as the light lets them. The War dried up all the money, especially on their side of town, so they all know hardship and they value every sliver of time they can find for fun and frivolity.

Someone swiped a ball from school that afternoon, so most of the usual crowd of boys are there. A rough square is visible in the dirt, and Danny Bianchi, the pitcher, stands between first and third, eyeing home plate with a relaxed posture as Bobby 'Ox' Miller comes up to bat. His nonchalance is an act and they all know it, since Ox, the big, handsome blonde whose father is a local politician, usually dings the ball into an adjoining yard or onto a rooftop. No one wants to lose the prize they are all feeling a little guilty for taking, but Ox is bright, funny, and easy with the money his father gives him, which makes him one of the most popular guys in school. No one ever stops him from playing.

Danny signals the fielding players to spread out with a complicated and unnecessary gesture and Steve watches as Bucky jogs to the back of the lot. Skinny and fragile as he is, he knows he wouldn't be able to join in even if the other guys had asked. It isn't yet the end of September but he is wrapped in Bucky's jacket as well as his own, feeling the chill of the breeze on the patches of skin that show between the end of his pants and his socks, and on his neck and fingers and ears.

Sure enough, there's a sharp crack and the ball goes sailing over the far wall. As guys scatter into the adjoining yard to find and collect it Ox lazily rounds the bases, grinning broadly, and accepts the cheers of his friends with the good grace of someone used to winning. Bucky throws his hands in the air in a defeated gesture, starting to walk towards where Steve is sitting, and even from the other side of the field Steve can hear him cursing a blue streak. He ducks his head, snorting into the folds of his scarf, and is surprised when there's a triumphant cry in the distance and the baseball hits the dust right next to him, thrown back into the lot by one of the kids who are now beginning to congregate on the field again.

"Throw us the ball," Danny calls, holding out his mitt. Steve stands, picking up the dirty baseball as Bucky's jacket slips onto the ground. He holds onto it for a moment, feeling the weight, and then brings his elbow back high over his shoulder, shooting it towards the players with what feels like a considerable amount of force.

The ball flies not even half the distance to Danny before hitting the ground, rolling a little before coming to a stop. Immediately boys all over the lot are sniggering and jeering at him, and Steve sighs to himself.

Bobby laughs loudly with his friends. "What a fuckin' queer," one of them sneers loudly, and Steve feels a hot blush of embarrassment and anger rising to his face. He opens his mouth to respond but a sharp shout cuts him off.

"You fuckin' take that back!"

Bucky barrels forward, all raised fists and gritted teeth. He stands equidistant between Steve and Bobby's cronies, feet planted, chin raised. "Take it back or else!"

There's one of Bucky and five of the bigger, stronger Seniors, and for once Steve is on the opposite side of wondering why the hell his best friend is trying to get beaten up. Still, his honour's on the line and he doesn't back down from a fight with a bully, so he rolls up his sleeves and marches over to stand next to the dark haired boy who has always, _always_ had his back.

 

 

 

 

They walk home together, after. Steve is wheezing from a punch to the stomach that winded him, triggering his asthma, and Bucky has a bloody nose. They're both pausing every so often to spit out blood, which is oozing into their mouths from split lips and accidentally bitten cheeks and tongues. They walk the long way, in no rush to be scolded by their mothers.

Steve's head is swimming. He can't get the image of Bucky planting himself in front of Bobby and his friends out of his mind. The other boy has never been so angry before, at least not around him, and it defies explanation. He'd deserved a few jokes at his expense for that pathetic excuse for a throw. A _girl_ could have done better. He didn't like being called names but he could have traded a few barbs with the other boys and kept his dignity intact. He might have walked away with no hard feelings and his head held high.

"You didn't have to do that, Buck," he says eventually, softly, testing the waters.

Bucky stops the stiff, angry stomping he had been doing all the way from the lot and rounds on him with fury twisting his handsome face into something harsh and ugly. "I'm not lettin' 'em talk about you like that, Steve!" he practically shouts, even though they're no more than a few inches apart. "You're not … you're not one of those!"

Steve frowns. "We've both been called worse than that. You didn't let me kick the shit out of Jerry Campbell that time he called you a kike, so what gives?"

Bucky huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets and spitting into the gutter. "It's different," he mutters, finally, starting to walk in the direction of home again as Steve watches him, perplexed. He hurries forward, catching up to Bucky's side like a faithful terrier to its master.

"Different how?"

"It's just fuckin' different, Steve!" Bucky shouts. Steve takes a step backwards, surprised at his friend's tone and volume. Bucky doesn't look at him, his gaze sliding away every time he starts to make eye contact. He's chewing his bottom lip and his eyes are suspiciously watery. He wipes a hand across his nose, smearing blood over his cheek, and scowls darkly at Steve. "No one's gonna call you that while I'm around. Got it?"

An argument rushes to his lips, but Steve bites it back. He can tell Bucky isn't going to let this go and he doesn't want to fall out with his best bud. Bucky clearly takes his silence as agreement because he recommences their slow journey home, but Steve can still see the tension in his frame. He falls into step next to him again, at a loss for words.

After a few minutes of silent walking Steve sees Bucky surreptitiously wipe at his eyes. He immediately wants to reach out and say something but he knows it won't be welcomed. If Bucky's pretending he's not crying, Steve can pretend too.

Neither of them ever mentions the fight, or the reason for it, again.

**Author's Note:**

> You can consider this fic as being in the same universe as Welcome To The Party, so Steve is straight and Bucky is gay. Also, please go and read everything flawedamythyst has written like I have and praise them because all of their stuff is great.
> 
> I don't use Tumblr any more but I do use [Twitter](https://twitter.com/velljob).
> 
> I'm happy to be critiqued on my writing if you have thoughts or if you see typos etc.


End file.
